Tuesday July 21 Middle of the Mediterranean
Thanks for your comments on my post. Most of you say it's harmless, and you're probably right. I was surprised by the women who said I should encourage my wife's sexuality... But honestly, the situation has gotten worse since my last post. Marco continues to pass all boundaries when it comes to flirting with my wife. Mel continues to welcome it. And she and I continue to fuck like college kids, three times a day if we can find the time. And just now she finally admitted to something that is too much to ignore.
There have been some things over the past week that really made me uncomfortable. A few days ago, she and I went down to the cabin for a nap before dinner but at the last minute she changed her mind and said she wanted to go for a swim. I was beat so I let her go alone, topless of course. Through the hull I could hear that the three of them were all in the water together, talking and laughing.
After the swim, she came back to the cabin to shower before dinner. She slipped off her bikini bottom, wrapped herself in a towel and left the cabin. I don't know why, but I picked up the bikini. It was dry.
When she got back to the cabin I accused her of swimming naked with the two guys. She denied it. I was just winding up for a good fight when she dropped her towel and tackled me on to the bed. I could have stopped it but my resistance was halfhearted. Very quickly she was on top of me, ramming down on my cock and grinding her pelvis against me, her eyes closed tight, working up to a monster orgasm. A thought popped into my head, 'I'm just a sex toy to her right now.' I must admit that the sexual tension of this trip has made me a slave to her pussy. No matter what new outrage happens between her and Marco, all she has to do is spread her legs and I melt. More on this incident later.
The next day, Marco was our tour guide in Palermo. He took us around -- Marco and Mel walking in front chatting away. Me trailing behind.
At lunch in town it was the three of us - wine and chatting and laughing for them, glum staring into the middle distance for me. After the meal she slouched back in her chair and said, "Cheer up. I'm riding my bike," which is our code to let me know she was secretly getting herself off. She had done the same on a crowded the beach the day before and it was very sexy but then we were surrounded by strangers. Now she was doing it right in front of Marco which did not make me happy.
After a few minutes her eyes closed, face flushed, and she gripped the arms of her chair. Marco noticed. He reached over and placed his hand on the top of her thigh, "Mel, bella, what's wrong? Suddenly you look unwell," he said with concern in his voice.
"It's nothing," she gasped, "just a cramp in my leg."
He began massaging her thigh. "Here?" he asked. She nodded yes and squeezed her legs more tightly together. He massaged higher, his fingers up under the cuff of her loose shorts. How did I just let it happen? She has been telling me regularly about how sexy she finds it when I am confident enough to ignore Marco's flirtations. And I had to admit, I was enjoying the new Mel. She had become insatiable. So I kept my mouth shut while my wife surreptitiously brought herself to orgasm with this prick massaging her thigh.
Eventually, she unclenched, a sheen of sweat on her face. "I'm fine," she said, "it passed." She looked over at me with a mischievous glint in her eyes. I was seething.
In Taormina, Marco was our tour guide again. Turns out it's his hometown. He knows everyone in town. He's a local celebrity.
At some point I got separated from them -- we weren't carrying phones. After about ten minutes just standing there alone, I saw Marco walking towards me, "She disappeared," he said, "Have you seen her?" I had not.
Marco said he would go look for her and that I should wait in a café beside the spot he said had last seen her. I sat there nursing a beer. Having the two of them out of my sight at the same time was uncomfortable.
To make matters worse, just after I sat down, a couple in an apartment above the café started a session of loud, hard fucking. Whoever they were, they should be in the sex Olympics. They didn't once slowdown in an hour-long session. She just kept climaxing over and over.
Everyone sitting at the café, and even people passing by, were looking up at the apartment and giggling. People at the café started to get turned on. A young couple at the table next to me started kissing hard, feeling each other up, and then paid their tab and rushed off, clearly on their way to someplace private. I noticed a lump in the pants of both the male waiters. Before long, my cock was throbbing and dripping too. I thought about slipping into the bathroom to jerk off, but I didn't want to miss Mel if she came back.
The fact that Mel and Marco were both out of my sight made me paranoid. At some point I thought the woman having sex even sounded a bit like Mel, or as Mel would sound if her normal orgasms with me were threes and she was having a series of tens. I pushed it out of my mind.
When the sex stopped, I took that as a sign that I had been waiting for too long. I was just getting ready to walk back to the boat when Mel finally turned up. She had no great excuse for her absence -- she said was lost. She was a flushed and sweaty. Exactly what you would expect for someone walking around in summer. Or... I could not get that suspicion out of my head.
A few minutes later Marco turned up. They had a conversation about where she had been -- but it sounded strange to me, not genuine.
The events of that afternoon bothered me continuously since then. I keep it bottled up but more and more I suspected something happened while the two of them were gone. I've stewed on it for days now.
